Sharoni Sibony is an adult educator, an artist, and a community organizer. She recently showed her work at the Miles Nadal JCC’s Gallery at the J in the exhibition Holey Wholly Holy: Visualizing Jewish Disability Justice as pert of Jewish Disability and Inclusion Month. We caught up with her to learn more about her art practice, work in as a creative facilitator and community organizer, as well as her favourite treats in Kensington Market.

Kultura Collective: Hi Sharoni! Can you please tell us a bit about you and your artistic practice?

Sharoni Sibony: Thanks for inviting me to share about my work. I’ve had a diverse and varied career, and these days I like to think I’m weaving together the different loves of my love into an eclectic mix – literature, art, and Judaism together at the forefront. I’m an adult educator, an artist, and a community organizer. I do a lot of teaching and facilitating in lifelong learning spaces, whether those are within Jewish community or within arts spaces. I love to work with adults who are willing to try something a little outside their comfort zone, to guide them lovingly through a process of intellectual, creative, or spiritual exploration (or sometimes all three at once). Over the past few years, I’ve been teaching classes like “Judaism 101” and Adult B’nei Mitzvah classes, in which I have the honour of helping people find their way into Jewish community and a deeper sense of belonging. And I teach different kinds of art and creativity classes, especially for people who struggle with their own relationship to creativity. After all, as  comics genius Lynda Barry says, “How old do you have to be to make a bad drawing?” (Why was it good enough to hang on the fridge when you were four years old, but not now?!)

As for my artistic practice, it’s multi-disciplinary right now. I was a hobby ceramicist for almost twenty years when I decided to go to Sheridan College in 2017 to study ceramics more formally. So I’ve done a lot of work in clay, and plan to do a lot more sculptural work going forward. (I’m currently exploring a project related to Lot’s Wife.) But over the past few years, I’ve also moved into more painting and drawing, first with a series of works on paper, called My Body’s Keeper, which wove together the visual vocabularies of communal Jewish prayer — Torah scrolls, cases, pointers, and more — and my own objects of pain management for fibromyalgia. That project was really invested in asking: how do we embody our spiritual lives? How does  illness affect our relationship to community and belonging? And how can our communal spaces be more spiritually centering places of recursive healing, strength, and support? That series was published in The Canadian Journal of Theology, Mental Health, and Disability. These days, my artistic practice is usually inspired by what I read and study, and often by wordplay, which was a great rabbinical meaning-making tool. A poem might provide me with a gorgeous metaphorical idea, or an idiom might get me going. But I also usually have a bunch of ideas on the go, and can’t wait to discover which ones are important enough to me to see the light of day.

KC: You recently showed your paintings at the Miles Nadal JCC’s Gallery at the J in the exhibition Holey Wholly Holy: Visualizing Jewish Disability Justice. Tell us more about the show and what inspired it?

SS: It was actually the culmination of a year-long commission I did for the JCC Association of North America. The JCCA had invited me to illustrate a set of Eight Guiding Principles on Accessibility and Inclusion for JCCs. The project was guided by the words of Psalm 133 — ”Behold how good and pleasant it is when all people live together as one,” — and was a way of introducing a new set of commitments about disability justice throughout the JCC Movement. For me, the illustrations provided an opportunity to elaborate on the questions I had been exploring in My Body’s Keeper.

I had the chance, through Sierra Weiss, the organization’s access and inclusion specialist, and Liviya Mendelsohn, JCC Association’s consultant on Inclusion, Diversity, Equity, and Accessibility, to attend a series of webinars launched during JDAAIM 2022 in which staff from different JCCs presented strategies they were implementing to make their JCCs more accessible and inclusive. I also consulted with members of JCC communities across North America, hearing directly from people with disabilities and chronic illnesses about their own interactions with JCCs.

In addition to my own reading and research, this consultation fed into my illustration work in all kinds of subtle ways. I became aware of the wide range of amazing initiatives at different JCCs that create access points for people who historically have been excluded and underrepresented in communal spaces. I learned, for example, about JCCs that host wheelchair basketball and chair yoga; invest resources to add closed captioning, video description, and/or ASL interpreters to their lectures and film programs; offer a cooling sprinkler at the end of each pool lane, so that folks with low vision or blindness will sense the drop in temperature and know they’re coming to the end of the lane; and how disability justice education is finding a home in early childhood education settings. The original paintings now live in midtown Manhattan, on the walls of the JCC Association offices, and JCCs across North America have the right to print and display them if they wish. It’s incredibly meaningful for me, because I worked in the JCC movement for nearly a decade as a programmer, and one of my own goals has always been to open doors for people in those spaces. I’m so proud of this collaboration with the JCC Association, to know that these images can inspire other people to keep opening doors and working toward increased inclusion. And I’m really delighted that the Miles Nadal JCC, which was my work home for a long time, wants to keep these commitments visible on the walls of the centre.

KC: Alongside the exhibition, you ran a series of Access to Art Workshops for Jewish Disability Access & Inclusion Month. What happened during these workshops?

SS: Oh, these were amazing! My intention was to centre experiences of disability and illness as creative generators. Over the past few weeks, we’ve made this collaborative banner, using the “stuff” of our lived experiences of disability and illness as mark-making tools. You’ll find traces of cane bottoms, fidget spinners, anti-fatigue mats, CPAP tubes, pill bottles, and other things that we used as stamps. The banner features super joyful colours and textures in layers, with the words “ACCESS IS… Love. Respect. Joy. Community. Creative. Inclusive. Justice. Fairness. Fun.”

It can be very difficult for people to ask for help and care when they need it, so we made “caregiver puppets” that gave us a chance to express the kind of support and love we want to ask for. Then we played with pill bottles to explore how to find a happier relationship to the process of taking necessary medications — adding colour, texture, jewels, and other motifs that would feel more inviting. One participant described the tower of pill bottles she made by saying, “I have a key here to symbolize that people feel locked in, like they’re stuck in this life where medication has side effects and it’s hard to be free like a bird. So I added a feather and also a butterfly because I would prefer to be free of medication and just find other ways to control symptoms.”

People need permission to play, and I gave one participant permission to use whatever supplies she wanted to bedazzle her cane. At the end of the workshop, she said, “I finally understand how disability can be joyful.” That’s the point, isn’t it? To show people that there’s always another way to look at their lives, another way to explore the world and ask, “What else could this be?” “How else can I see this?”

KC: The works from your exhibition as well as a banner created during the workshops are now on permanent display in the Miles Nadal JCC on the third floor. What do you hope viewers to the exhibition take away from the works?

SS: At the core, I hope that people enact the Guiding Principles that the JCC Association has outlined. They’re often broad and aspirational, meant to inspire JCCs (and, I would argue, anyone involved in any organization) to keep working to make our communal spaces more accessible and inclusive. It’s about honouring and respecting the diverse insights, perspectives, and abilities that people have. And, of course, I hope that the Guiding Principles serve as a constant goal post for staff and lay leaders of the JCC in their work.

KC: You trained as a creative facilitator with the Jewish Studio Project. What did that involve and how are you using your training now?

SS: That was fabulous! Jewish Studio Project is an organization out of Berkeley, California. It’s run by Rabbi Adina Allen, author of The Place of All Possibility: Cultivating Creativity through Ancient Jewish Wisdom (Ayin Press, 2024). Rabbi Allen has created a really powerful spiritual practice that borrows from elements of expressive art therapy and Jewish text study. I trained with them for 18 months and continue to be an active member of the JSP Fellows and Facilitators Network; I think I’m so far the only Canadian who has done that training, and I would be happy to talk to people about it if they want to know more.

I always have to explain to people that what we’re doing is not an “art workshop”; it’s a ritual container for creative process as a spiritual practice. Anything can be a creative material – for example, I recently made a (short-lived, eventually smelly) puppet out of oranges, blueberries, and kebab sticks. This practice is like a mindful, contemplative creative process. It has a lot in common with prayer services or meditation spaces, and it’s all about cultivating creative habits of mind that help us with resilience in the face of challenges. And goodness knows, we need that so much right now!

KC: You have been leading a Shabbat series for the Miles Nadal JCC called Restorative Creativity. How does this program work and what do participants take away from it?

SS: This is a monthly drop-in ritual space at the MNjcc, where people have a chance to experience the Jewish Studio Process with me as their participant-facilitator, and a more liberal Shabbat vibe, with music and art-making. It’s a way of weaving together our intellectual, spiritual, and manual selves. Every month, I pick a theme, usually tied to an upcoming Jewish holiday or the week’s Torah portion. We follow a pretty rote structure, but sometimes I’ll modify a step or two along the way. The basic structure to expect is this:

• Spiritual Grounding – grounding ourselves in place with music or a poem or a movement exercise
• Framing Remarks – my little “dvar” (commentary) on the theme of the session
• Beit Midrash – textual inquiry with a source sheet I’ll provide, usually done in pairs or trios. Unlike other “beit midrash” settings we’ve experienced, the aim of this text study isn’t to find an authoritative or even intellectual read on what the texts mean, though that’s in the background. The idea is to see what the Torah or other Jewish sources spark for us – what images, feelings, and sensations come up that will help us engage in conversation with each other, uncover our own innate wisdom and insights, and build shared resonance within the group?
• Intention-setting – we take a moment before we make art to set an intention for the time that we’ll be spending in creative process.
• Creative Process – I provide a variety of art materials (paint, markers, collage, mixed media options), and people work alongside each other to create their own images or sculptures.
• Witness writing – we get quiet and each of us looks at our art piece, and writes about the process and the product.
• Witness reading – we take a little time to listen to each other, without comment, to hear what surfaced for people during creative play.

I worry about how our attention is constantly in demand and fractured into tinier and tinier bites. Restorative Creativity is a way for us to deepen our connection with Torah and Jewish texts, but also a way to protect our own mental space and the voice of our own intuition.

(Incidentally, I have a mobile mixed-media Art Cart, so I also take the Jewish Studio Process on the road, and definitely not only on Shabbat. If you want me to come to your community some time, I’d be happy to!)

KC: You have facilitated many educational and creative projects in the Jewish community. What have you learned through these experiences? Has this influenced your creative practice?

SS: Artists are always asked, “how long did it take you to make this?” and the best answer is “oh, all my life” – because I couldn’t have made this exact work (i.e., the illustrations for the JCCA or anything else I’m working on) before now. Everything I’ve learned, all my experiences, all my exposure to art, literature, Torah, people’s stories, my own life’s journey,  etc. gets synthesized anew each time I come to a canvas or a ball of clay. I’m constantly learning and making new connections. (In addition to teaching, I try to attend other people’s workshops and lectures a few times a week.) I’ve worked within the Jewish community in different ways for more than 15 years, since I left grad school, and I’m constantly learning about people’s experiences and aspects of peoplehood that I hadn’t been privy to before.

KC: You are also tour guide for the Ontario Jewish Archives. Can you tell us about your walking tour? And what’s your favorite Jewish fact about Kensington Market?

SS: Yes, I’ve been tour guiding for almost fifteen years, I think. The OJA is an amazing organization; very few cultural communities in Toronto have anything with the scope and seriousness of our Jewish archive. I’m really proud to be one of the front-facing people who gets to interpret the stories in the archives for the public, and to be a kind of ambassador for Jewish Toronto through that work, too. We do a tour of Kensington Market that highlights different aspects of the community’s development, from domestic life and food shopping practices, to religious practices in synagogues, to labour unions, and children’s experiences of the Market, and more. Over the years, I’ve also worked with the OJA and other partner organizations on projects that have allowed us to bring the Market’s Jewish stories to life for new communities and school groups as, for example, when I trained a group of TDSB teachers to lead “A Trip to the Market”, which then reached close to 3,000 students from 59 schools.

In addition to the OJA tour, I’ve also developed a “Butchers and Bakers” tour for Mazon Canada, and a “Threads of Spadina” tour about the Jewish contributions to mid-century multiculturalism for the MNjcc, looking at stories of solidarity, cooperation, and collaboration.

As for favourite facts, let’s give a little love to Annie Kaplansky and the blueberry bun, that sweet yeast dough pocket stuffed with fresh cooked blueberries and topped with big sugar crystals. It’s a uniquely Toronto treat, one that never really traveled to Montreal, Winnipeg, or New York. Annie Kaplansky opened the first Health Bread Bakery in 1928 after immigrating here from Rakov, Poland, and she’s the one who gets credit for pioneering this Toronto Jewish staple. (Super special thanks, too, to Jillian Gould for writing that history.)

KC: You also incorporate pottery into your visual practice. What drew you to ceramics?

SS: I came to clay in my late teens, when I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, and I found it really therapeutic and calming. I think there’s something about carving that activates our “badger brains”, as the poet Robert Bly called that instinct in us that likes to dig in mud; it’s just an incredibly pleasing activity. I got more and more interested in ceramics, and eventually went to Sheridan College to study more deeply, and I’m looking forward to refocusing on sculptural works soon.

KC: Your work is a celebration of experiences. What does “Jewish joy” mean to you?

SS: On the easiest level, I derive an enormous amount of “Jewish joy” from being with my family. Also, from the creative sparks that go off in my brain when I encounter a powerful image or piece of wordplay in Torah or other Jewish texts, and then when I can turn those sparks into new art or teaching prompts that provoke further conversation and reflection. And I derive an enormous amount of “Jewish joy” from bringing people together in community, as for example, when I help coordinate the Downtown Tikkun Leil Shavuot at the MNjcc and get to showcase a lot of our local talent in one space!

But I also have a much more complex answer for this because I think joy and sorrow are not opposite states, but partners in our hearts. (Think of Ross Gay’s moving book, Inciting Joy: Essays, or The Bengsons’ beautiful project on pregnancy loss, “My Joy Is Heavy.”) In Judaism, there are moments in our calendar or in our life cycles when we’re called upon to adopt the posture of joyfulness and rejoicing, even if our inner state is heartbreak. As I’m writing this, for instance, I’ve been holding the past week’s grief and rage about the Bibas family alongside my preparation for my mini-course in Holy Laughter. How are these things not totally incongruous?! And yet, we’re taught that when the month of Adar enters, joy abounds. It’s hard to imagine eking out a little joy at this moment. It’s hard to imagine changing our postures from the contractions of crying and self-protection, to the expansiveness of laughter and silliness. But joy and laughter can deactivate our most fearful brains and help us find new ideas to face the big challenges of the moment.

We often think of joy as a spontaneous effusion of internal emotion, but joy takes practice and our calendar calls for attention to this practice right now. So, in the Holy Laughter class,  I’m creating four small windows for building up the spiritual skill of joy. Joy incites solidarity with others; it softens our boundaries and our egos, and gives us a chance to relax our guard a little to connect with others. I think it’s in those connections within community, and on behalf of community outward, that I find an even deeper, more renewable experience of Jewish joy.

KC: If you could have Shabbat dinner with anyone, who would it be and why?

SS: Actually, can I twist the question around? While I’m constantly inspired by a lot of the artists in the Jewish Art Salon collective, and my colleagues, teachers, and classmates of the past few years across organizations like the ATIQ: Jewish Maker Institute, Yeshivat Maharat, and the Jewish Studio Project, as well as scholars I still follow years after I left academia, I always love to have non-Jewish friends and students at my Shabbat table. Their questions about Jewish life often get me thinking in new ways about how to live a life of meaning and purpose through Jewish approaches. I appreciate their curiosity and the vulnerability that it takes to ask questions, and I find so many new insights in the dynamics of cultural exchange. Plus, sometimes I get to borrow ideas from them and put a Jewish spin on them, and that’s very enlivening!

KC: Lightning round question!

KC: Spinning the Dreidel vs Finding the Afikomen?

SS: Finding the Afikomen, for sure. My family have come up with some really clever hiding spots over the years, and it’s way more fun to solve a puzzle than to keep spinning a top over and over.

KC: New York vs Montreal bagels?

SS: Um, Toronto’s own Blueberry Buns, please! Bagels are great, but Toronto Jewry has produced a staple treat of our own and they’re better than bagels! (Though, I will say that Nu Bugel in Kensington Market makes a wicked Rosemary and Sea Salt bagel, if you’re not watching your salt intake.)

KC: Pomegranate vs apple?

SS: Pomegranates because, for some reason, apples make my ears really itchy.

Sharoni Sibony is a lover of metaphor, a possibilitarian, an educator, artist, creative facilitator, and Jewish community organizer. She has been a lecturer, tour guide, pottery instructor, and book club facilitator in various venues across the Toronto community (and beyond) and has worked and volunteered in Jewish adult educational programming and event management through organizations that include Kolel at the Prosserman JCC, the Miles Nadal JCC, Ashkenaz Festival, Holy Blossom Temple, and Limmud Toronto. She is a Jewish Studio Project facilitator and runs a monthly Shabbat “Restorative Creativity” practice at the Miles Nadal JCC.